I realize I am not the first mother this has ever happened to, nor will I be the last. More so, I realize I have just been added to 'the majority', so that is why I can now say I have completed another motherhood hazing episode? event? rite of passage?
Let me explain. Tuesday evening when we got home for the night, I could tell the babe wasn't feeling all too great. He'd felt warm to me for a day or so, but otherwise was eating and acting normal. Tuesday evening after he ate, he was sitting in middle of the kitchen very still and quiet - very unlike him. I figured he was just doing his business in his diaper, but he sat their longer than normal. No fussing with the dog water bowl or the door to the basement - just sitting.
I picked him up and headed to his room for a diaper change. No sooner did I have one foot on the carpeted hallway and the other almost on the wooden bedroom floor and it was a scene from the exorcist. Projectile vomit - dead on - down the [inside] front of my shirt, then again in my hair, and again, and again. I stood there stunned. I didn't see that coming! And the poor kid looked like a 21 year-old the morning after their birthday. Sweating, beat red and exhausted....and covered in puke. We were both COVERED in puke.
I yelled out to Allen who was outside cleaning the horse stalls. I asked him if he could come in and help, that the kid had puked all over and I needed assistance. He then yells back 'Do you really need me to come in? I am all dirty!!'. WAS HE SERIOUS?
So I strip off what clothing I could right there, then waddle out to the patio, baby on hip, still covered from the waist up in vomit and say 'CAN YOU HELP ME PLEASE?' -- once he saw us, I think he discovered the urgency in my original request. So, we stripped the baby down outside (don't worry, we are experiencing unseasonably warm, 80 degree temps at the moment!) and I got his bath ready. Then I gave myself a shower! Then we continued on with the evening until the poor little guy feel asleep.
Enter 1am - I am woken up to an antsy babe next to me who proceeds to projectile vomit again, all over me, him, the bed and my hair. UGH. I know why mom's cut their hair short now! So I wake up Allen (who had taken up residence on the couch!) to help us, we get the baby another bath and then Allen holds him in the rocking chair until I get showered [again!]. I hear Allen yell out to me while I am in showering 'The baby puked again all over me - help'. So I think to myself 'Do you REALLY need me, I am in the middle of a shower!' Can you sense my sarcasm!...
So, off I go, in a hurry to finish my shower, get dressed again and get my babe washed up...again. Now, next time, when we have child vomit and I call for help, I am pretty sure my husband will know that means 'get over here and help me NOW...or else' :) And, I will be a little more prepared and not taken off guard now that I have had the pleasure of this wonderful experience!